


All Washed Up

by Evergreene



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreene/pseuds/Evergreene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in a flooding cave, Aramis and d'Artagnan must count on their friends for survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Washed Up

**Author's Note:**

> I adore the little scenes we sometimes get between Aramis and d'Artagnan and that is where this fic sprang from. Also, I just enjoy whumping them both. Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! :)

'There is no need to fret, d'Artagnan. I've got out of far worse scrapes than this and lived to tell the tale. I can't think of any right now, but-'

'Aramis?'

'Yes, my friend?'

'Is this the best time?'

'I was just trying to keep our spirits up.'

'And I appreciate that,' said d'Artagnan, his voice clipped. 'But I would prefer it if you would concentrate on getting us out of here.'

Aramis eyed the water that was lapping darkly at their chests, gleaming in the moonlight shining in from the open trapdoor in the cave roof. 'You might have a point,' he said, tugging again at his wrists, which were shackled to the wooden post that dug narrowly into his back as he tried to get free. He glanced over at d'Artagnan, who was bound similarly. 'Any chance you are having better luck than I?'

D'Artagnan shook his head, his narrow shoulders twisting as he tried to wrench his feet loose yet again. 'There's no give.' He looked over at Aramis, who saw that fear, real fear, was starting to creep into the younger man's eyes. 'What are we going to do?'

Aramis glanced at the key that hung on the rock wall opposite them, suspended from a nail driven crudely into one of the cave's many crevices. 'Like I said, there is no reason to fret. We have the key within our sights. We just need to get to it.'

'How?' D'Artagnan's voice was strained and Aramis saw that shivers were starting to wrack his frame as the night-cold water seeped incrementally higher about them, filling the cave inch by inch from below. 'It might as well be on the other side of the world!'

'The others will be here soon,' Aramis interrupted him. 'All we must do is wait.'

'For how long exactly? We must have been here hours-'

'-which means they will be close by now,' Aramis finished smoothly. 'You'll see. They will come. Now.' He caught d'Artagnan's eye and grinned. 'Which scrape do you wish to hear about first?'

\-------------------

'And then Porthos turned to Athos and said, 'That's the last time I set a goose loose in Treville's office!'

'Shh! What was that?'

Quieting abruptly, Aramis tilted his head back, trying hard to ignore the water washing about the tip of his beard. Soft, so soft it was barely there, a voice could be heard outside, raised in a familiar shout that drifted through the night, seeming to ripple over the water that was now above their shoulders.

D'Artagnan's eyes lit up, gleaming eerily as the moonlight played on the rising swell, sending a silvery glow flickering over them. 'It's Athos. Did you hear him? Athos! We're down here!'

'D'Artagnan?'

Aramis joined his voice to d'Artagnan's, yelling so loudly his voice went hoarse. 'Down here! Athos!'

There was a pause, then Athos' crouched silhouette appeared in the open trapdoor that hovered a few feet over their heads. A moment later Porthos was there too, the combination of his broad shoulders and wide hat cutting out the meagre light and casting what remained of the cave into shadow.

'Aramis? D'Artagnan? What-'

'We're trapped, Athos,' Aramis called, spitting out the water that seeped into his mouth as he spoke. 'Chained to the floor. We need the key, there-' He gestured with his chin to where the key hung on the wall, just below where his friends were kneeling.

He heard Porthos curse and the two of them disappeared from sight. A second later, their muttered conversation could be heard.

'I can't swim. Never learned how.'

'Fortunately you are stronger than I am anyway. Wait here and pull them up once I have them free.'

There was a sudden splash and Athos was there, treading water beside them, the key grasped tight in his hand. He looked from one of them to the other, his eyes almost black in his pale face, and Aramis knew he was trying to make the decision that no man should ever have to make between his friends.

'Take d'Artagnan-' he started to say, but d'Artagnan cut over him, his voice strong and matter-of-fact despite the shivers that made his teeth clack together as he gazed straight at Athos.

'I'm taller than he is.'

Athos hesitated, then glanced once at Aramis and then up to Porthos. 'He's right.'

'What? No!' Aramis shouted, but it was too late - Athos was already behind him, feeling his way down his arms to the shackles around his wrists and then fumbling with the key at the heavy lock. There was a long pause, then the shackles swung away and Athos was down by his feet, tugging at them and finally Aramis found himself floating free, up towards the square of light where Porthos waited, his shirtsleeves pulled back and his arms outstretched into the water.

Though every instinct in him was screaming to get out of the flooded cave, Aramis pulled his arm out of Athos' grip and turned towards d'Artagnan, just in time to see him choke and splutter as water spilled into his mouth and nose, with him no longer able to crane his head high enough to avoid it. The next moment, another wave had washed into the cave from down below and d'Artagnan disappeared.

'No!' Aramis cried, but Athos was beside him, wrapping his hand about his arm and pushing at him and it was as though through a dark tunnel that Aramis heard him shouting instructions, urging him onwards and up to safety, leaving d'Artagnan behind.

'You're wasting time!' Athos finally yelled, and it was that, only that, which made Aramis turn away and strike out for where Porthos was just visible, a darker shadow in the night. The next second, there were knuckles digging into the nape of his neck as Porthos took a great grip on the back of his jacket and with one huge heave he was being pulled from the water, sucking in vast gulps of fresh air as Porthos dragged him along the ground so he lay supine, his body giving him what his mind did not want.

Almost at once, there was a soft splash behind him and he rolled over to see Athos' boots vanish beneath the water, his shadow just visible and heading for the far side of the cave where d'Artagnan had been tied for so long.

Moments passed, long, agonizing moments that stretched for eternity, and then there were bubbles on the surface and Athos appeared, gasping for breath.

'Can't get him free,' he forced out, before sucking in a huge breath and diving again.

Aramis threw himself forwards and had it not been for Porthos' iron grip on the back of his coat, he would have gone into the water again. But Porthos was pulling him back, wrapping his arms around him and he was saying something, though it took all of Aramis' concentration to focus and understand.

'There's no sense both of you going in,' he was saying, though his voice was as tight as Aramis had ever heard it. 'You're barely strong enough to stand, you'd only make things worse. Athos will get him out. You'll see. We've been in worse scrapes than this one. Just give them a minute.'

Again they waited, each second dragging on and on until Aramis was sure his friends were both dead, drowned, gone to a cold black grave and it was all his fault and-

There were bubbles in the centre of the pool.

Aramis surged forwards, breaking free of Porthos's grip, and threw himself onto the ground as Athos emerged, silver water streaming off him, and clutched in his arms was d'Artagnan, face ashen and body limp.

With cries of gladness, both he and Porthos reached for them, seizing anything they could get a hold of - clothes, hair, limbs - and pulled them both up, out of the water and onto the ground.

At once, Athos staggered and collapsed to his knees, one of his hands still wrapped in d'Artagnan's collar. 'He was down there too long,' he gasped. 'I couldn't- couldn't get that blasted lock to turn, couldn't get him free!'

Porthos and Aramis stared down at the pitiful figure of their friend who was lying sodden and boneless on the ground, his dark hair plastered over his face and eyes, his clothes drenched and dripping.

'No,' Aramis found himself saying and he dropped to his knees, in supplication, in desperation, which one he did not know.

But then there was a cough, and a choke, and he looked up to see d'Artagnan seize, his body curling in on itself as it struggled to do what nature intended.

'Roll him over!' he cried, not really knowing what he was saying but knowing it made sense. 'He swallowed too much water, he needs to get it out!'

At once, Porthos and Athos were next to him, following his lead as he pushed d'Artagnan onto his side, pulling his arms out in front of him so he was curled forward. Immediately, d'Artagnan coughed again and a huge amount of water came up out of his mouth, pooling under him as he gagged and gasped and Porthos was patting him on the back, making him cough all the more, but it didn't matter because he was alive and breathing and trying to speak.

Aramis collapsed back onto his rear, the terror of the last few hours catching up with him and Athos dropped back too, still trying to catch his breath as he stared at d'Artagnan as though seeing a ghost.

D'Artagnan struggled half-upright and looked at Aramis, and Aramis was so glad to see him that he pushed himself forwards and embraced his friend, ignoring the muffled protests that sounded before d'Artagnan finally subsided and clasped a wet hand to his back.

It was Porthos who moved first, pulling him off d'Artagnan, who coughed his thanks, to haul him upright, only to push his hat into his hands. Aramis stared down at it wordlessly and Porthos grinned. 'Better than breadcrumbs,' he said, and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder that drove him almost to the ground once more.

Meanwhile, Athos was throwing his cloak over d'Artagnan, who had started to shiver again in the fresh air. 'Never do that again,' Aramis heard Athos mutter and he watched, his spirits burgeoning, as Athos began to tow d'Artagnan over towards his and Porthos' horses, who were grazing with their reins hanging to the ground, just as a red light broke over the horizon behind them, outlining them in shadow.

D'Artagnan had started to follow Athos obediently, but he paused to look back at Aramis, who hurried to catch up. 'Well?' he demanded, as Aramis gained his side.

Aramis grinned and set the hat in his hands on d'Artagnan's head, where it promptly sank down until it dipped over his ears, hiding his stormy expression from view.

'I told you there was no reason to fret.'


End file.
